


Winter's Night

by Mertiya



Series: Story Circle [37]
Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, Explicit Consent, First Time, Garruk's gentle, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, Protective Garruk, Sharing Body Heat, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spoilers for The Wildered Quest, Will's needy, they're adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 01:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: Will goes for a walk on a new plane and ends up in trouble and then snowbound with Garruk.  Things progress from there.





	Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

> help i fell down and accidentally a new ship, whoops
> 
> i just have a lot of feels about protectiveness and they're both so protective of each other? and also "i remember you will kenrith" my poor shipper's heart just couldn't take it

The tavern was loud, crowded, and pretty small as taverns went, but Rowan Kenrith wouldn’t have been anywhere else for the world. Worlds. Whatever. When she and Will had first set out from Ardenvale all those weeks ago, she could never have imagined an adventure this huge. She wanted to see everything. She wanted to go everywhere. At this point, worlds had blurred past them for long enough she wasn’t actually sure she even knew the name of this one—just that it was cold and snowy and the barmaid was beautiful and had definitely, absolutely winked at Rowan at least twice. So Rowan was definitely happy to just wait here for the next few hours and maybe even get a room for the night. Will seemed a little less excited.

He was glumly swirling at his hot mulled cider, and Rowan knew that look. It was his, _I, Will, am a muddlehead and therefore always bored with the wrong things_. But he was her twin brother, and she wanted him to have a good time as well. And then there was the small matter of the fact that Rowan would probably have a much better time herself if Will could be persuaded to remove himself for a few hours.

“Will,” she hissed, and he looked up, startled. “Why don’t you go for a walk?” She nodded her head outside, where a few stray snowflakes were starting to fall from the sky. “It’s your kind of weather.”

He glanced up, then followed her sideways look at the barmaid. “Oh?” he inquired, a little dangerously. “You’re sure it’s not _your_ kind of weather?”

If Rowan’s cheeks felt warm, it was probably the alcohol. “Well—”

Her brother sighed and waved a hand. “All right, all right. You’re right, I do want to explore a little more.” Getting up from the table, he shot her a surprisingly mischievous grin. “Have a nice time, Ro.”

~

The night sky was half-black, half-covered in a fine layer of white clouds. The cold white stars on the clear part were so deliciously foreign that it made Will shiver with pleasure as he made his way down the silvery-white gravel path that wound its way between high, arching trees. He paused every-so-often to pick up a leaf from the ground and study it, trace his hands across the veins and around the way the edges folded inwards, just a little different from the ones he was used to.

The snow was falling faster now, and Will smiled to see it coming down around him. He’d always loved snow; even before he’d come into his powers, he had played in it for hours and once he had to be carried back inside and thawed in front of the fire because he’d nearly given himself frostbite. The first snow of the year was still always a little special for him, and this was the first snow of the year on an entirely new world.

Will stood and watched the white snow pile up, watched his breath steam in the cold night air, and then he paused as he heard a creaking, groaning noise like ice breaking. Turning with a frown, he realized the snow had become so thick he could barely see, and he had no idea what could have made the noise. Well, that did make it interesting, but at the same time—he felt for his sword. It might be better to head back now—he hadn’t been out all that long, but he felt a little naked without Rowan by his side.

By the light of a huge white moon, he squinted between the dark trees to either side, trying to spot the path he’d come in on, then realized with a slight chill that it had snowed so heavily that he couldn’t see where it should be. His footprints had been quite covered up in the time he’d stood here waiting. The awful creaking noise sounded from behind him again, followed up with a sharp crack like a bone breaking. Will chewed on his lip and then drew his sword, feeling the tingle of ice creeping up the blade.

A hulking two-legged figure staggered out of the swirling flakes, reaching for his face with blue, rime-covered fingers. Will shouted, slicing at it reflexively, and leapt backwards. His sword sliced into flesh, then caught, the impact running jarringly up his arm, and he grimaced as he pulled it back. Bluish ichor spilled from the creature’s arm, but it did not appear noticeably disconcerted. Hollow eye sockets, rimmed with frost, turned in Will’s direction, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. A lich of some sort, perhaps—and unbidden, he remembered the curling white mist that had taken Titus.

Gritting his teeth, he called ice to him, letting out a relieved breath when he felt the familiar magic curl around his palm, and he spun a web of it around the thing, stronger and thicker than usual, because there was no Rowan to send lightning sizzling through its veins. Although if it was a lich, even her magic might not be enough to strike it down. The thought of it lurching towards him again, reaching out that awful, cold-blackened arm made him call more and more ice, spinning it and spinning it until there was only a dark misshapen lump standing in front of him, starting to collect snow.

Will paused, waiting, wiping the sweat from his brow. And then the ice—almost a foot thick of solid ice—made a creaking, groaning noise. Before Will could do anything else, there was the awful sound of that bone-breaking crack, and he barely had time to throw up his arm to shield his face from the flying ice.

Something barreled into him, knocking him onto his back, and all the air rushed out of his lungs. When he tried to regain it, nothing happened—his lungs seemed as frozen as the air around him, and a clumsy attempt with his sword to hack at the thing on top of him did very little good—it swept aside the blade, those cold empty frost-rimmed eyes staring straight through him.

He heard another crack and another and when he turned his head frantically from side to side, there were more of them, looming up out of the white snow, silent, staring. The one on top of him opened a mouth lined with icicle-sharp teeth, grinning a horrible white grin, and it went for his throat.

Somehow, Will managed to get his sword arm up, and his breath returned in time for him to yell with pain as the teeth fastened in his arm instead. Blood spattered black on the moon-silvered snow. The other creatures advanced, slowly but surely. A sudden cold ache sprang up in Will’s arm, different from the normal pain of the injury. Will was screaming now, he realized; he felt like an onlooker in his own body, watching as it struggled to get away, watching as it weakened and his head lolled back onto the snow, as the other creatures drew nearer, their circle drawing tighter and tighter—

_I’m sorry, Mother…_

Far away, someone howled, an angry noise but not a monstrous one. The angry hum of a blade sang through the air, and there was a thudding, squelching noise. Droplets of icy liquid splashed across Will’s face, and the lich collapsed slowly, half of its upper torso sliding diagonally off of the other half. Behind it stood a figure in a green hood, the upper half of his face masked and surrounded by a pair of ivory tusks. The axe in his hands was covered in silver-blue ichor.

Groaning and coughing, Will sat up slowly as the other liches turned on his rescuer, who moved his huge frame almost gracefully, turning one slice into the next in grim silence, one by one slashing the huge blade through each of the creatures in turn. When one tried to stand up on its remaining stumps, he turned steadily and sliced it through twice more. Then, panting, breath steaming in the cold air, he turned back to Will, and, stepping forward, held out a hand.

“G-Garruk?” Will managed, his teeth chattering unpleasantly.

“Will Kenrith.” He smiled gently. “I’ve been looking for you.”

~

The snow was coming down so hard it was almost a blizzard, whiting out the world around them. Garruk Wildspeaker looked down at the young man in his arms. Will’s face was pale, his teeth chattering. His arm was still bleeding sluggishly, and frost rimed the edges of the injury. He needed to be taken somewhere warm, and the wound needed to be cleaned and dressed.

In the middle of this snowstorm, though, Garruk wasn’t sure even he would be able to find his way back to the tavern where he had left a worried Rowan Kenrith, convincing her with some difficulty that he would be faster at finding Will on his own. Maybe not the right move, in retrospect. Although if he’d been much later—

Will was moving in his arms, burrowing his face into Garruk’s chest, probably seeking warmth. Garruk petted his hair gently, and Will shivered against him, murmuring something, lips against his bare skin. “Will Kenrith,” Garruk murmured, even as he turned on the spot, looking for a break in the storm, some indication of a way to go—and he found it. The wind in one direction smelled different, carrying a hint of old ash and smoke, the distinct scent of civilization—and right now that was exactly what they needed.

“Garruk,” Will managed breathily. “Thank you.”

~

It was warm. Will searched his memory, trying to figure out what had happened, but all he could find was the blurry image of Garruk slicing through monsters, a smear of white, and then freezing cold. He wasn’t cold now. There was an orange glow filtering through his eyelids, and when he opened his eyes a crack, he could see the flickering of a fire.

After a moment, he realized there was a scratchy blanket at his front, and something much solider at his back. Blowing out a long, tired breath, Will turned his head and found that Garruk was looking down at him, his dark eyes a little concerned. “How are you feeling?” he rumbled.

They were both naked, pressed together under the blanket. Will’s forearm was hurting, a dull, distant ache, but more to the point, they were both naked, pressed together under the blanket, Garruk at his back, and Will was blushing. “Better,” he managed. “All right, I think. What happened?”

“You were injured.” Garruk patted his shoulder gently, drawing his attention to the faintly painful arm. “I dressed it and warmed you up.”

“Warmed me up,” Will echoed. “Right. Thanks. Where are we?”

“A cottage in the woods.” Garruk looked up. “Probably a hunter’s lodge.”

It did make sense. So did the current situation, if you thought about it logically, Will told himself sternly. He’d gotten this cold before, or nearly, and there were probably no hot-water bottles around, so this was a smart way of warming up his entire body. Garruk had definitely made the right choice. Just because Will felt—vulnerable, jangly, the beat of his heart speeding up—didn’t mean it wasn’t the right choice. He wasn’t used to being so at the mercy of someone else. If Garruk wanted to, he could hold Will in place easily enough; he was certainly stronger and Will was tired, drained of magic. He’d have no way to fight back.

Of course, he was relatively certain Garruk wouldn’t do anything like that. More than relatively, if he was honest with himself. He’d trusted the man when he was half-mad with the darkest curse Will had ever seen in his life; now, cleansed and whole, how could he do anything _but_ trust him? But for some reason Will’s cloudy thoughts kept coming back to Garruk holding him down, how it would feel, those large hands on his shoulders, those large fingers—oh. _Oh_. Will ducked his head and flushed desperately, suddenly extremely glad that his back was to the other man.

“Feeling better?” Garruk asked.

“Yes, thank you!” Will’s voice came out reedy and broke halfway through, and he cursed internally, cleared his throat and tried again. “Much. Thank you for rescuing me.”

He got a gentle grunt in response. “Try to sleep,” Garruk said. “We’re snowed in for the night.”

Will wriggled slightly, trying to find a position that was less uncomfortable, but he supposed if he managed to sleep, the problem would either go away or at least stop being noticeable from his perspective, so he might as well do what the other man suggested. Determinedly, he shut his eyes, although he had a bad feeling he would be lying awake for some time.

~

It was dark and cold. Will shivered into consciousness and found himself sitting up before he was even really awake, wrapping his arms around himself. The fire had burned down to a few glowing embers and, looking to his side, he saw that Garruk had rolled away in his sleep, taking the blanket with him. Yawning, Will was about to grab the blanket and try to wrestle it away from his companion, when he realized that Garruk was moaning, clawing at the blanket he was tangled in. Even in the dim light, Will could see that he no longer wore the tusked helm, and he looked strangely vulnerable without it, naked in a way the removal of clothing didn’t seem to leave him.

“Garruk?” Will said softly, then reached out and shook his shoulder. The big man rolled onto his side, but his eyes were still tight shut, hands out as if trying to ward something off. “Wake up,” Will told him, shaking him again, and this time Garruk roared, ripping the blanket to the side and throwing himself forward.

Will ended up on his back on the floor with Garruk’s huge shadow looming over him, his face invisible in the inky shadows. “Ow,” Will said in irritation, rubbing the back of his head where he’d cracked it against the floor. “Garruk, are you all right?”

There was a pause. “Will Kenrith,” the hunter said in a slightly shaky voice.

Will sat up. “Are you all right?” Will repeated. “You were dreaming.”

Garruk groaned and the shadow shifted slightly. “A dream,” he echoed. “Yes.”

Scooting closer to him, Will put a hand on his back. The man was trembling a little. “Was it the curse?” he asked.

He thought Garruk nodded. “I thought it would leave me be,” he said, after a moment. “But I dream of receiving it. And I dream of killing with no reason.”

“It hurt you,” Will said, trying to pick his words carefully. “And Oko hurt you more, enslaving you like that.” He pressed a palm flat against Garruk’s chest. “And even when you were cursed and mind-controlled, you still protected us.” He took a deep breath. “You still protected _me_.”

He felt Garruk’s heartbeat flutter underneath his hand, and he was suddenly acutely aware of their shared proximity and lack of clothes again. Garruk leaned forward, and Will’s heart jumped into his mouth, but he just pressed their foreheads together and breathed, his warm breath curling pleasantly onto Will’s far-too-eager mouth. _Come on, Will, he’s just woken up from some truly terrible nightmares._

“Hmmm,” Garruk rumbled, and his voice had changed, although his heart was still beating faster underneath Will’s hand. He lifted a hand to Will’s cheek and rubbed a thumb cautiously, questioningly, over Will’s lips.

“You always protect me,” Will said helplessly, his breath hitching at the touch. Then, even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, “Can I kiss you?”

Garruk made a soft noise, tipping Will’s head up a little more and his own head a little down, and then his lips were on Will’s, and Will was moaning into his mouth. One large hand splayed across Will’s back, and Will pressed himself closer, flattening himself all along Garruk’s chest, realizing a little late that this meant that the erection that had returned with a vengeance was now trapped between their stomachs. Garruk made another pleased rumbling noise, and Will pressed urgently at Garruk’s mouth with his tongue until suddenly, the kiss became wet and open-mouthed, and Will found he was starting to rub himself up and down along Garruk’s front.

Will wasn’t a small man, and he wasn’t used to feeling as if he was, but Garruk was immense. Just how immense he realized a moment later as he ended up with the other man’s cock between his legs. “Beast’s blood,” Will breathed against Garruk’s mouth. Then, somehow as reckless as Rowan had ever been, “I want you inside me.”

Garruk nodded, sliding one big hand up to tangle in Will’s hair. “Have to open you up,” he said.

“Yes,” Will agreed, feeling his cheeks get hot. Then, “Now. Please.”

He wasn’t totally inexperienced with the feeling of something inside him, although until now it was something that had been primarily restricted to something he did when alone, usually in the shower. But he had some idea what to expect, which was good, because no matter how much he wanted it, he wasn’t sure he would have dared try something that large if he’d never—

“I’ll get an ointment,” Garruk told him, and Will whined without being able to stop himself as the contact was broken. As Garruk went over to rummage in what was presumably his pack and their discarded clothing, Will spread the blanket across the floor and then, feeling daring, went onto his hands and knees.

A moment later, Garruk was back, kneeling beside him. He put a large hand in front of Will’s face, and in the dim orange glow of the remaining embers, Will could just see it was covered in some kind of translucent gel. “Burn ointment, but it’ll do for this,” Garruk explained. “All right?”

It smelled like onions to Will’s startled nose, and he laughed. “All right,” he agreed.

Even as impatient as he felt, the intrusion of someone else’s finger for the first time made him shake and breathe out a nervous oath. Garruk put a free hand on his back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles, and Will found himself pillowing his face on his arms and moaning at the top of his lungs as the finger moved slowly in and out. His cock twitched against his belly.

“More,” he whined, pushing his hips back against Garruk’s hand, and Garruk breathed out heavily and added another finger, then crooked them both in a way that made sparks burst in front of Will’s eyes. For half a second, he thought he was actually coming, but he wasn’t, quite. “_Mmmmmnnnn_—_Garruk_—”

Panting breaths behind him, but Garruk didn’t stop rubbing soothing circles over his back, and Will thought he might melt with pleasure, every nerve in his back tingling, sensation like he’d never felt before pulsing through him. “Ahhhh, ah,” Will panted, hitching his hips back against Garruk’s hand, but it still wasn’t—enough—“_More_.”

“Ready, then?”

“Yef.” Will’s voice was muffled by his own arm. There was drool all over it. When had that happened, anyway? “_Garruk_.”

Garruk’s hand moved from his back and both large hands spread Will’s thighs apart gently. Will felt Garruk’s massive erection press against his entrance, and he bit down a little on his arm. “Relax,” Garruk told him, one hand slipping around and tugging at Will’s erection. Gulping and cursing, Will thrust shallowly into it, then backwards, and that was enough—Garruk was inside him, his thrust slowly filling Will up in a way he hadn’t really thought was possible.

After a long minute, he felt Garruk’s heavy weight against his back and Garruk’s mouth nipping gently at the back of his neck. Will cursed again, pushing his hips into Garruk’s, trying to fuck himself backwards onto Garruk’s cock, and Garruk grunted gutturally in his ear. One large hand fell onto Will’s head, the other reached around the front of his thighs, pulling him backwards as Garruk began to thrust into him a little more steadily.

Will abandoned himself to the sensations, sobbing into his arm. It was all so much, Garruk filling him up, heat-moisture-tingling on the back of his neck, the twisting pain/pleasure of Garruk’s hand tugging at his hair a little. And it was so dim, almost black, that he couldn’t really see anything. His world had narrowed into nothing but Garruk’s smell and sweat and cock, striking that one spot over and over and—

Garruk grunted, twitched, and his hand on Will’s thigh tightened. Will gasped at the surge of heat, at the sensation of warm fluid trickling down his thigh, and groaned out a broken, “_Please_.”

Still panting, Garruk’s trembling hand slipped around to Will’s front again, giving him something slick and hot to thrust into again and again, until—

He thought he shouted Garruk’s name again, his muscles twitching at the overwhelming rush of pleasure as he came into the other man’s hand, with Garruk’s softening cock still inside him. Will moaned once more, then slid weakly off of Garruk and flopped onto the blanket. He was smiling, he noticed vaguely. He felt wrung out and exhausted and also amazing. With a soft sigh, Garruk lowered himself down beside Will, and Will turned immediately to bury his head in Garruk’s shoulder and kiss it softly. Garruk hummed and curled his arm around Will’s back, then scritched gently at the back of Will’s head.

“Don’t you dare have any more nightmares,” Will told him weakly. “I don’t think my ego could take it.”

Garruk chuckled, nuzzling the top of his head. “I enjoyed that.”

“Me too,” Will murmured, yawning. He was very warm.

~

Rowan stood at the window, staring out at the first streaks of dawn lighting up the sky. Still no sign of Will’s or Garruk’s return. And it had been a whole night. Where was her idiot brother? She was going to punch him and then hug him and then probably yell at him. She’d suggested he go out for a walk; she hadn’t suggested he get lost and not come _back_.

Behind her, she heard Paulie’s cheerful voice humming, and then the petite, curly-haired barmaid popped up beside her and offered her a cup of coffee. “I’m sure they’ll be all right,” she said, putting a comforting hand on Rowan’s arm.

“They’d better be,” Rowan muttered angrily, glancing briefly away from the window. When she looked back up—there they were, Garruk and Will, just emerging from the dark forest, hand-in-hand. Will’s face was flushed and turned up towards his companion, and, as Rowan watched, she saw the flirtatious way he ducked his head.

“Oh, I’m going to kill him,” she said. “I was too worried to—and he just went ahead and—I’m going to _kill_ him.” She turned rashly to Paulie. “Would you like to go to bed with me?” she asked. “Now that I know my muttonhead brother isn’t _dead_.”

Paulie giggled. “I’d love to,” she said.

“All right, just give me a few minutes to tell Will he’s to wait and not to bother us.” She squeezed Paulie’s hand and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, then stomped out of the front of the tavern and waved to Will.

“Will! Muttonhead!” she yelled, and—to his credit, Rowan admittedly grudgingly—he dropped Garruk’s hand to run across the snow and hug her.

“Were you worried, Ro? I’m sorry.”

There was a bandage on his arm, dotted with blood. “What happened out there?” Rowan demanded.

“I ran into some not-so-friendly local ice monsters,” he told her. “And as it turns out there’s not much I can do against a monster made of ice. Garruk saved me.”

The big man walked up beside him, and gave Rowan a smile and a nod.

“That’s not all, is it?” Rowan asked accusingly, and Will blushed.

“Well, you and that pretty barmaid—”

“I was too _worried_ about you!” she retorted, sulkily. “But…maybe if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside for an hour or two now…”

“Actually outside, or just—”

“Muttonhead!” Rowan said hotly. “Just—I’m sure you can sit in the tavern, although it’s not open, but just—”

“All right.” Will held up his hands. “Sorry. I owe you, Ro. Go ahead.”

“_Thank_ you.” She turned to Garruk. “And—thank you for taking care of my idiot brother.”

Garruk chuckled and gave her another reassuring nod. “You’re welcome,” he rumbled, after a minute, putting a hand on Will’s shoulder and glancing at him so affectionately that the last of Rowan’s anger melted away.

“Come on, then,” she impetuously, taking Will’s hand. “I can at least introduce you to Paulie, and then you can just—wait.”

She was so relieved. For a little while she had been afraid—but no, it was just another one of Will’s usual stupidities. Just another winter’s night.


End file.
